Freeway: (Intro)    Free! Paul Wall!    And we coming with the bump bump buuum!    Early! Yeah! Uh! It's The Roc, Swishahouse and we    Dumping on y'all hating ass niggas    And we hit yall with the Bump Bump buuum    Early! Uh! Yeah! Uh!       Y'all better keep your weapons close    It's Philly and Paul Wall    And this is the way we ball bring the raw    To your city got them semis    If you really want war    We gon bring it to your doorstep    Vests and them hoodies    And we pop pop pop    Through your body    Put the rest in your fitted    And this is the way you fall to the ground    An' you shaking nigga    State prop cock game and we gun a hater down    And we take a hater's pounds    And we sell a hater's bricks    And we the main reason why they chicks is not around    Somebody tell them that they're roc' in Houston    Swishahouse got that knock in Houston we come and lock shit down       Chorus:    Real niggas stand up point em we gon gun 'em haters down come around you hear that...    And all my real bitches step up come to wipe a player down smoke a pound with him    Real niggas step up we gon gun 'em haters down come around you hear that...    And all my real bitches step up come to wipe a player down smoke a pound with him       Paul Wall:    I hear these haters talking seem like they're getting louder    These sweet cupcakes softer than some clam chowder    I'm from the city of powder, syrup and crack rocks?    For twenty dollars get you higher than an astronaut    I keep a Glock in my state prop jeans    Floating on cloud nine goin' off cold dean    I chuck a deuce to a hater    I'm on a mission for paper    I got lew hawk with me serving dope fiends like a waiter    I'm on the south lee with my boy    Big bank take little bank baby tell me what it do    These boys talking loud but they ain't saying a thang    But Paul Wall and Freeway will make 'em sang       Chorus       It's the Swishahouse state prop chain gang    .45 cal big Glock bang bang    I keep the tupperware tucked in my underwear    Rain down thunder on these suckers make the clutter clear    Let's get one thing clear I run with grizzly bears    Bite you in your back and make you straighten out your chest hair    I'm 100 baby no time for playing games    I got a garden full of carats hanging in my chain    I keep a player bought my paper fuck a hater    Cause the real turn fake switching over like a crossfader    I'm squashing chatter climbing up the ladder    Cause my goal is to make my pockets fatter baby Paul Wall       Chorus